Sailors tell us that there is a dead spot in the Caribbean Sea. It lies midway between Carthagena in Columbia and Kingston, Jamaica. It is out of the track of steamers and the action of the great currents going one way and another has left a space of stagnant water without any real movement at all. Anything that gets into “the dead spot” is apt to stay there unless driven out by some big storm, and will simply drift round and round, gathering sea-grass and barnacles.
Sailors tell us that there is a dead spot in the Caribbean Sea. It lies midway between Carthagena in Columbia and Kingston, Jamaica. It is out of the track of steamers and the action of the great currents going one way and another has left a space of stagnant water without any real movement at all. Anything that gets into “the dead spot” is apt to stay there unless driven out by some big storm, and will simply drift round and round, gathering sea-grass and barnacles.
Is there not “a dead spot” in the seaof life, a place out of the currents of earnest activities where souls drift and gather worthless accretions? (Text.)
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STAINS
The three ghosts on the lonesome roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that stain about your mouthNo lifted hand may cover?”“From eating of forbidden fruit,Brother, my brother.”The three ghosts on the sunless roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that red burn on your footNo dust nor ash may cover?”“I stamped a neighbor’s hearth-flame out,Brother, my brother.”The three ghosts on the windless roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that blood upon your handNo other hand may cover?”“From breaking of a woman’s heart,Brother, my brother.”“Yet on the earth clean men we walked,Glutton and Thief and Lover;White flesh and fair it hid our stainsThat no man might discover.”“Naked the soul goes up to God,Brother, my brother.”—Theodosia Garrison,Zion’s Herald.
The three ghosts on the lonesome roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that stain about your mouthNo lifted hand may cover?”“From eating of forbidden fruit,Brother, my brother.”The three ghosts on the sunless roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that red burn on your footNo dust nor ash may cover?”“I stamped a neighbor’s hearth-flame out,Brother, my brother.”The three ghosts on the windless roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that blood upon your handNo other hand may cover?”“From breaking of a woman’s heart,Brother, my brother.”“Yet on the earth clean men we walked,Glutton and Thief and Lover;White flesh and fair it hid our stainsThat no man might discover.”“Naked the soul goes up to God,Brother, my brother.”—Theodosia Garrison,Zion’s Herald.
The three ghosts on the lonesome roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that stain about your mouthNo lifted hand may cover?”“From eating of forbidden fruit,Brother, my brother.”
The three ghosts on the lonesome road
Spake each to one another,
“Whence came that stain about your mouth
No lifted hand may cover?”
“From eating of forbidden fruit,
Brother, my brother.”
The three ghosts on the sunless roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that red burn on your footNo dust nor ash may cover?”“I stamped a neighbor’s hearth-flame out,Brother, my brother.”
The three ghosts on the sunless road
Spake each to one another,
“Whence came that red burn on your foot
No dust nor ash may cover?”
“I stamped a neighbor’s hearth-flame out,
Brother, my brother.”
The three ghosts on the windless roadSpake each to one another,“Whence came that blood upon your handNo other hand may cover?”“From breaking of a woman’s heart,Brother, my brother.”
The three ghosts on the windless road
Spake each to one another,
“Whence came that blood upon your hand
No other hand may cover?”
“From breaking of a woman’s heart,
Brother, my brother.”
“Yet on the earth clean men we walked,Glutton and Thief and Lover;White flesh and fair it hid our stainsThat no man might discover.”“Naked the soul goes up to God,Brother, my brother.”—Theodosia Garrison,Zion’s Herald.
“Yet on the earth clean men we walked,
Glutton and Thief and Lover;
White flesh and fair it hid our stains
That no man might discover.”
“Naked the soul goes up to God,
Brother, my brother.”
—Theodosia Garrison,Zion’s Herald.
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STANDARDS
For measuring a base line (in calculating a parallax) metal bars or rods are used. These are carefully compared in the laboratory with the standards and their lengths at a definite temperature determined. Unfortunately, when these rods are taken into the field for actual use they are exposed to constantly varying temperatures, and they expand and contract in a very troublesome way. Various devices have been used to eliminate the errors thus introduced, the simplest and best being the Woodward “ice-bar apparatus” used by the Coast and Geodetic Survey. In this the metal measuring-bar is supported in a trough and completely packed in ice, and thus maintained at the uniform temperature of 32 degrees Fahr. With such an apparatus a base line can be measured with an error of only a fortieth of an inch in a mile, or one part in two and a half million.—Charles Lane Poor, “The Solar System.”
For measuring a base line (in calculating a parallax) metal bars or rods are used. These are carefully compared in the laboratory with the standards and their lengths at a definite temperature determined. Unfortunately, when these rods are taken into the field for actual use they are exposed to constantly varying temperatures, and they expand and contract in a very troublesome way. Various devices have been used to eliminate the errors thus introduced, the simplest and best being the Woodward “ice-bar apparatus” used by the Coast and Geodetic Survey. In this the metal measuring-bar is supported in a trough and completely packed in ice, and thus maintained at the uniform temperature of 32 degrees Fahr. With such an apparatus a base line can be measured with an error of only a fortieth of an inch in a mile, or one part in two and a half million.—Charles Lane Poor, “The Solar System.”
(3053)
SeeExcellence is Comparative.
Standing by the Ship—SeeLoyalty.
Stars and Stripes, Disrespect to the—SeePatriotism, Lack of.
Stars Converting a Skeptic—SeeConverted by the Comet.
Stars, Gate of the—SeeGate, The, of Stars.
State, The, More Than the Individual—SeeRepresentative Dignity.
STATESMAN ON MISSIONS
In visiting India, Hon. Charles W. Fairbanks, former vice-president of the United States, took pains to aline himself with the Christian missionary movement in that country. In a public address he said: “I believe the greatest influence to-day—I speak from the standpoint of a layman but with measured utterance—is the Christian religion. The largest progress made in America has been under the influence of men who have been profound believers in the Bible and its thoughts. And what I say of America may also be said of other Christian nations; the experience of one is the experience of another. I wish to express my profound admiration—it goes beyond mere respect—for the workers in the great missionary field. I have seen many a work; I have seen the rich, abundant harvest they have gathered and are gathering. They are evangels of a new order of things. They are doing much to knit the peoples together, and have earned their right to the gratitude of mankind for their noble self-sacrifice.”
In visiting India, Hon. Charles W. Fairbanks, former vice-president of the United States, took pains to aline himself with the Christian missionary movement in that country. In a public address he said: “I believe the greatest influence to-day—I speak from the standpoint of a layman but with measured utterance—is the Christian religion. The largest progress made in America has been under the influence of men who have been profound believers in the Bible and its thoughts. And what I say of America may also be said of other Christian nations; the experience of one is the experience of another. I wish to express my profound admiration—it goes beyond mere respect—for the workers in the great missionary field. I have seen many a work; I have seen the rich, abundant harvest they have gathered and are gathering. They are evangels of a new order of things. They are doing much to knit the peoples together, and have earned their right to the gratitude of mankind for their noble self-sacrifice.”
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STATESMANSHIP
TheManchester Guardian, in an editorial on the one hundredth anniversary of Gladstone’s birth (December 29), had the following fine appreciation of the great statesman’s international spirit:
To him the line of State boundaries formed no limit beyond which the writ of conscience ceased to run. He held national duties to be as sacred as personal duties, and judged national honor by the same standard as personal honor. From the debate on the opium war in 1840 to the last speech on behalf of the dying Armenians in 1896, Gladstone maintained this ideal in the face of Europe. He could not always carry itthrough against his own colleagues in government. No man at the head of affairs can have his way in all things; but he closed his public career by resigning office rather than associate himself with an increase of armaments which he judged unnecessary, and therefore injurious to the cause with which his name is indelibly associated.
To him the line of State boundaries formed no limit beyond which the writ of conscience ceased to run. He held national duties to be as sacred as personal duties, and judged national honor by the same standard as personal honor. From the debate on the opium war in 1840 to the last speech on behalf of the dying Armenians in 1896, Gladstone maintained this ideal in the face of Europe. He could not always carry itthrough against his own colleagues in government. No man at the head of affairs can have his way in all things; but he closed his public career by resigning office rather than associate himself with an increase of armaments which he judged unnecessary, and therefore injurious to the cause with which his name is indelibly associated.
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STATIC PROGRESS
Life is not always by motion; sometimes it is improved by waiting. The boat in the lock stands still in order to be lifted higher.
Life is not always by motion; sometimes it is improved by waiting. The boat in the lock stands still in order to be lifted higher.
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Stationary Lives—SeeMarking Time.
Stationary, The Effect of Things—SeeInfluence.
Statistics, Divorce—SeeDivorce.
Statistics of Churches—SeeChurch Statistics.
Statistics of Sunday-schools—SeeSunday-school Statistics.
Statues, The Value of—SeeBeautiful, Influence of the.
Stature and Situation—SeeDisproportion.
Stature not Greatness—SeeGreatness.
STEADINESS OF PROVIDENCE
In a poem, “The World Runs On,” Edmund Vance Cook, inThe Independent, thus expresses the calm steadiness of God’s providences:
So many good people find fault with God,Tho admitting He’s doing the best He can,But still they consider it somewhat oddThat He doesn’t consult them concerning His plan.But the sun sinks down and the sun climbs back,And the world runs round and round its track.Or they say God doesn’t precisely steerThis world in the way they think it best,And if He would listen to them, He’d veerA hair to the sou’ sou’west by west.But the world sails on and it never turns backAnd the Mariner makes never a tack.So many good people are quite inclinedTo favor God with their best advices,And consider they’re something more than kindIn helping Him out of critical crises.But the world runs on, as it ran before,And eternally shall run evermore.So many good people, like you and me,Are deeply concerned for the sins of others,And conceive it their duty that God should beApprised of the lack in erring brothers.And the myriad sun-stars seed the skiesAnd look at us out of their calm, clear eyes. (Text.)
So many good people find fault with God,Tho admitting He’s doing the best He can,But still they consider it somewhat oddThat He doesn’t consult them concerning His plan.But the sun sinks down and the sun climbs back,And the world runs round and round its track.Or they say God doesn’t precisely steerThis world in the way they think it best,And if He would listen to them, He’d veerA hair to the sou’ sou’west by west.But the world sails on and it never turns backAnd the Mariner makes never a tack.So many good people are quite inclinedTo favor God with their best advices,And consider they’re something more than kindIn helping Him out of critical crises.But the world runs on, as it ran before,And eternally shall run evermore.So many good people, like you and me,Are deeply concerned for the sins of others,And conceive it their duty that God should beApprised of the lack in erring brothers.And the myriad sun-stars seed the skiesAnd look at us out of their calm, clear eyes. (Text.)
So many good people find fault with God,Tho admitting He’s doing the best He can,But still they consider it somewhat oddThat He doesn’t consult them concerning His plan.But the sun sinks down and the sun climbs back,And the world runs round and round its track.
So many good people find fault with God,
Tho admitting He’s doing the best He can,
But still they consider it somewhat odd
That He doesn’t consult them concerning His plan.
But the sun sinks down and the sun climbs back,
And the world runs round and round its track.
Or they say God doesn’t precisely steerThis world in the way they think it best,And if He would listen to them, He’d veerA hair to the sou’ sou’west by west.But the world sails on and it never turns backAnd the Mariner makes never a tack.
Or they say God doesn’t precisely steer
This world in the way they think it best,
And if He would listen to them, He’d veer
A hair to the sou’ sou’west by west.
But the world sails on and it never turns back
And the Mariner makes never a tack.
So many good people are quite inclinedTo favor God with their best advices,And consider they’re something more than kindIn helping Him out of critical crises.But the world runs on, as it ran before,And eternally shall run evermore.
So many good people are quite inclined
To favor God with their best advices,
And consider they’re something more than kind
In helping Him out of critical crises.
But the world runs on, as it ran before,
And eternally shall run evermore.
So many good people, like you and me,Are deeply concerned for the sins of others,And conceive it their duty that God should beApprised of the lack in erring brothers.And the myriad sun-stars seed the skiesAnd look at us out of their calm, clear eyes. (Text.)
So many good people, like you and me,
Are deeply concerned for the sins of others,
And conceive it their duty that God should be
Apprised of the lack in erring brothers.
And the myriad sun-stars seed the skies
And look at us out of their calm, clear eyes. (Text.)
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STEADY WORKING
Among the country boys who pick berries there are two kinds: one keeps steadily picking through thick and thin, moving only when there are no berries in sight; and the other one runs about looking for the places where berries are thick. But the boy of the first kind is the first one to fill his pail.
Among the country boys who pick berries there are two kinds: one keeps steadily picking through thick and thin, moving only when there are no berries in sight; and the other one runs about looking for the places where berries are thick. But the boy of the first kind is the first one to fill his pail.
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STEDFASTNESS
It was the standing of Jackson’s brigade so firmly as to attract the attention of a Confederate officer at Bull Run that led the soubriquet to be applied to him of “Stonewall” Jackson. (Text.)
It was the standing of Jackson’s brigade so firmly as to attract the attention of a Confederate officer at Bull Run that led the soubriquet to be applied to him of “Stonewall” Jackson. (Text.)
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Be firm! One constant element in luckIs genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck;See yon tall shaft; it felt the earthquake’s thrill,Clung to its base, and greets the sunrise still.—O. W. Holmes.
Be firm! One constant element in luckIs genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck;See yon tall shaft; it felt the earthquake’s thrill,Clung to its base, and greets the sunrise still.—O. W. Holmes.
Be firm! One constant element in luckIs genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck;See yon tall shaft; it felt the earthquake’s thrill,Clung to its base, and greets the sunrise still.—O. W. Holmes.
Be firm! One constant element in luck
Is genuine, solid, old Teutonic pluck;
See yon tall shaft; it felt the earthquake’s thrill,
Clung to its base, and greets the sunrise still.
—O. W. Holmes.
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STEPS UPWARD
When one is climbing a mountain whose lofty peak he has long admired from a distance there is an arduous ascent and one with many steps to be made; but how good and wholesome is the way. The path which winds through grassy meadows, the bridge which crosses the rushing stream pouring down from the heights, the slow and toilful ascent, repaid by the purer air and the rarer flowers and the wider vision, over obstacles, and then, at last, the height itself, differentfrom the rest only in this, that it is the culmination! There can be no Parnassus without the steps that lead to it.—George Clark Coe.
When one is climbing a mountain whose lofty peak he has long admired from a distance there is an arduous ascent and one with many steps to be made; but how good and wholesome is the way. The path which winds through grassy meadows, the bridge which crosses the rushing stream pouring down from the heights, the slow and toilful ascent, repaid by the purer air and the rarer flowers and the wider vision, over obstacles, and then, at last, the height itself, differentfrom the rest only in this, that it is the culmination! There can be no Parnassus without the steps that lead to it.—George Clark Coe.
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Stewardship—SeeClaim, God’s.
STICKING TO IT
A friend, a former colleague of mine, told me that he was, many years ago, traveling up to London with an owner of race horses who was accompanied by his trainer. When they arrived at the station near the metropolis where the tickets are collected, the ticket-collector came, and my friend said, “My servant has my ticket in the next carriage.” The ticket-collector retired and presently came back rather angry and said, “I can not find him.” My friend said, “He is in the next carriage—or the next carriage but one; he is there.” As soon as the ticket-collector retired for the second time the trainer leaned forward and said, “Stick to it, my lord, you will tire him out.”—LordHerschell.
A friend, a former colleague of mine, told me that he was, many years ago, traveling up to London with an owner of race horses who was accompanied by his trainer. When they arrived at the station near the metropolis where the tickets are collected, the ticket-collector came, and my friend said, “My servant has my ticket in the next carriage.” The ticket-collector retired and presently came back rather angry and said, “I can not find him.” My friend said, “He is in the next carriage—or the next carriage but one; he is there.” As soon as the ticket-collector retired for the second time the trainer leaned forward and said, “Stick to it, my lord, you will tire him out.”—LordHerschell.
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STIGMATA
Francis, Duke of Guise, bore the common name ofLe Balafré, or “The Scarred.” In a skirmish with the English invaders he received a wound the most severe from which any one ever recovered. A lance entered above the right eye, declining toward the nose, and piercing through on the other side, between the nape and the ear. The weapon was broken off, a part remaining in the dreadful wound. The surgeon took the pincers of a blacksmith and tore out the barbed iron, leaving a frightful scar which was shown as a signal badge of honor.
Francis, Duke of Guise, bore the common name ofLe Balafré, or “The Scarred.” In a skirmish with the English invaders he received a wound the most severe from which any one ever recovered. A lance entered above the right eye, declining toward the nose, and piercing through on the other side, between the nape and the ear. The weapon was broken off, a part remaining in the dreadful wound. The surgeon took the pincers of a blacksmith and tore out the barbed iron, leaving a frightful scar which was shown as a signal badge of honor.
When Thomas tested the wounds of the risen Savior he cried, “My Lord and my God.”
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Stimulus—SeeOpposition;Social Christianity.
STIMULUS FROM RIVALRY
Social rivalry brings its rich compensations. It is so with the international rivalry. America and Australia at this moment are sending into this country (England) corn, meats, fruits, and our farmers declare that they are being ruined. But the fact is men have to be ruined that they may be made over again, and fashioned on a grander pattern. Our husbandmen will be compelled to put away all droning; they must go to school again, they must invent new methods, they must adopt new machines, sow choicer seeds, breed superior cattle; they must grub up the old canker-eaten, lichen-laden orchards, and plant fresh fruit-trees of the best varieties. The pressure of the times will lift the national husbandry to a higher plane. And this international rivalry will have the same stimulating effect on city life.—W. L. Watkinson, “The Transfigured Sackcloth.”
Social rivalry brings its rich compensations. It is so with the international rivalry. America and Australia at this moment are sending into this country (England) corn, meats, fruits, and our farmers declare that they are being ruined. But the fact is men have to be ruined that they may be made over again, and fashioned on a grander pattern. Our husbandmen will be compelled to put away all droning; they must go to school again, they must invent new methods, they must adopt new machines, sow choicer seeds, breed superior cattle; they must grub up the old canker-eaten, lichen-laden orchards, and plant fresh fruit-trees of the best varieties. The pressure of the times will lift the national husbandry to a higher plane. And this international rivalry will have the same stimulating effect on city life.—W. L. Watkinson, “The Transfigured Sackcloth.”
(3064)
Stomach Contraction—SeeAdaptation.
Stones, Comparing—SeeCommon Things.
Stored Energy—SeeReserve Power.
STORY, THE POWER OF THE OLD
Do you remember the story of Paul Du Chaillu, the great African traveler, in the heart of the Dark Continent? On one occasion he told the “old, old story” to a poor slave woman; then he went on his way and forgot all about the incident. He came back a few months later to that town and the slave-traders had just made a raid on it. In the fight this woman was injured. She sent for him and he went to see her. As he knelt down beside her, she said, “Tell it again.” “Tell what again?” he said. “Oh, tell me that story again.” Then once more he told her the old, old story of Jesus and His love. As he finished it, she said to him, “Is it true?” “Yes,” he replied, “it is true.” “Do your people believe that?” “Yes, they believe that.” “Oh,” she said, “tell them to send us that story a little faster.”—A. S. Wilson, “Student Volunteer Movement,” 1906.
Do you remember the story of Paul Du Chaillu, the great African traveler, in the heart of the Dark Continent? On one occasion he told the “old, old story” to a poor slave woman; then he went on his way and forgot all about the incident. He came back a few months later to that town and the slave-traders had just made a raid on it. In the fight this woman was injured. She sent for him and he went to see her. As he knelt down beside her, she said, “Tell it again.” “Tell what again?” he said. “Oh, tell me that story again.” Then once more he told her the old, old story of Jesus and His love. As he finished it, she said to him, “Is it true?” “Yes,” he replied, “it is true.” “Do your people believe that?” “Yes, they believe that.” “Oh,” she said, “tell them to send us that story a little faster.”—A. S. Wilson, “Student Volunteer Movement,” 1906.
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STRAIGHT CHARACTER
“Is he straight?”“Straight as a gun-barrel. You can depend upon him in every spot and place.”This was said of a boy who had asked for a place and had given as a reference the gentleman who made this firm reply.How straight is a gun-barrel? In the factory where guns are made the metal is rolled and prest and ground and polished until the most practised eye can not detect the slightest curve in it anywhere. Not until it is so can it be permitted to go out of the factory. Over and over again it must be tested and tried until it is as perfect as men and machines can make it. If the gun-barrel were not straight, no one ever could hitwhat he aimed at; the bullet could not help flying wide of the mark.And hitting the mark is the thing. “Straight” is a homely word, but it is full of the deepest meaning. No one can ever reach his aim, be it ever so high, unless he always does the true, manly thing. One little mean, underhanded act, and his life may be marred forever. The world wants men who are straight. (Text.)—Edgar L. Vincent,The Visitor.
“Is he straight?”
“Straight as a gun-barrel. You can depend upon him in every spot and place.”
This was said of a boy who had asked for a place and had given as a reference the gentleman who made this firm reply.
How straight is a gun-barrel? In the factory where guns are made the metal is rolled and prest and ground and polished until the most practised eye can not detect the slightest curve in it anywhere. Not until it is so can it be permitted to go out of the factory. Over and over again it must be tested and tried until it is as perfect as men and machines can make it. If the gun-barrel were not straight, no one ever could hitwhat he aimed at; the bullet could not help flying wide of the mark.
And hitting the mark is the thing. “Straight” is a homely word, but it is full of the deepest meaning. No one can ever reach his aim, be it ever so high, unless he always does the true, manly thing. One little mean, underhanded act, and his life may be marred forever. The world wants men who are straight. (Text.)—Edgar L. Vincent,The Visitor.
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STRAIN, NERVOUS
Jack Tattersall, the wireless man of the steamshipBaltic, which went to the aid of theRepublicon January 23, 1909, is said to have sat at his key for 52 hours. In relating his experience he said:
It wasn’t the actual work that bothered me, you know. That’s not so difficult.No; it’s the awful nervous strain of striving, always striving, to get the message right, when half a dozen gigantic batteries are jerking flashes to you at the same time, drowning each other out, pounding in your ears, making the night seem to swarm with sparks before your eyes. That’s what gets on a man’s nerves; that’s what makes you next to insane. I hardly knew what to do, with theRepublicsignaling me, faintly, so faintly that I could not make out whether they were saying, “We are sinking,” or “All safe.” (Text.)
It wasn’t the actual work that bothered me, you know. That’s not so difficult.
No; it’s the awful nervous strain of striving, always striving, to get the message right, when half a dozen gigantic batteries are jerking flashes to you at the same time, drowning each other out, pounding in your ears, making the night seem to swarm with sparks before your eyes. That’s what gets on a man’s nerves; that’s what makes you next to insane. I hardly knew what to do, with theRepublicsignaling me, faintly, so faintly that I could not make out whether they were saying, “We are sinking,” or “All safe.” (Text.)
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STRATAGEM BY BIRDS
A gentleman had a fine setter-dog who was accustomed to take his daily bone, with due allowance of meat adhering, to the lawn to enjoy at his leisure. On one occasion he observed several magpies planning to get a share of the dainty. They quietly approached the dog and placed themselves one at the head, about two feet from the animal, who was too busy to notice them, a second near the tail, and one or two by his side. When all were placed, the bird near the dog’s tail gave a sudden nip to that member. The dog, of course, wheeled to catch the offender, who fled, while his hungry comrades rushed to the bone, hastily snatching what they could. The fleeing magpie led the outraged dog to some distance, drawing him on by fluttering as if injured, without really taking flight.—Olive Thorne Miller, “The Bird Our Brother.”
A gentleman had a fine setter-dog who was accustomed to take his daily bone, with due allowance of meat adhering, to the lawn to enjoy at his leisure. On one occasion he observed several magpies planning to get a share of the dainty. They quietly approached the dog and placed themselves one at the head, about two feet from the animal, who was too busy to notice them, a second near the tail, and one or two by his side. When all were placed, the bird near the dog’s tail gave a sudden nip to that member. The dog, of course, wheeled to catch the offender, who fled, while his hungry comrades rushed to the bone, hastily snatching what they could. The fleeing magpie led the outraged dog to some distance, drawing him on by fluttering as if injured, without really taking flight.—Olive Thorne Miller, “The Bird Our Brother.”
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STRATAGEM TO ESCAPE ENEMIES
One of his (the fox’s) favorite tricks is to cross over deep water on thin ice just strong enough to bear him, knowing that in all probability the hounds will break through, and perhaps be swept under the ice if the current is strong enough. More than one valuable dog has been drowned in this manner, but I have never known a fox to miscalculate the strength of the ice and break through himself. If the stream is not wholly frozen over, he runs along at the very edge of the deep water, where the ice is thin and treacherous, until he comes to a place where he can jump across to the thin ice that reaches out from the opposite bank.—Witmer StoneandWilliam Everett Cram, “American Animals.”
One of his (the fox’s) favorite tricks is to cross over deep water on thin ice just strong enough to bear him, knowing that in all probability the hounds will break through, and perhaps be swept under the ice if the current is strong enough. More than one valuable dog has been drowned in this manner, but I have never known a fox to miscalculate the strength of the ice and break through himself. If the stream is not wholly frozen over, he runs along at the very edge of the deep water, where the ice is thin and treacherous, until he comes to a place where he can jump across to the thin ice that reaches out from the opposite bank.—Witmer StoneandWilliam Everett Cram, “American Animals.”
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STRATEGY
The best strategy in life is frequently to take advantage of an enemy’s mistakes.
In Mark Twain’s “Autobiography,” in theNorth American Review, is General Grant’s own opinion in regard to the inception of Sherman’s march to the sea.“Neither of us originated the idea of Sherman’s march to the sea. The enemy did it,” said Grant.He went on to say that the enemy necessarily originated a great many of the plans that the general on the opposite side gets the credit for. In this case, Sherman had a plan all thought out, of course. He meant to destroy the two remaining railroads in that part of the country, and that would finish up that region. But General Hood made a dive at Chattanooga. This left the march to the sea open to Sherman, and so, after sending part of his army to defend and hold what he had acquired in the Chattanooga region, he was perfectly free to proceed with the rest of it through Georgia. He saw the opportunity, and he would not have been fit for his place if he had not seized it.
In Mark Twain’s “Autobiography,” in theNorth American Review, is General Grant’s own opinion in regard to the inception of Sherman’s march to the sea.
“Neither of us originated the idea of Sherman’s march to the sea. The enemy did it,” said Grant.
He went on to say that the enemy necessarily originated a great many of the plans that the general on the opposite side gets the credit for. In this case, Sherman had a plan all thought out, of course. He meant to destroy the two remaining railroads in that part of the country, and that would finish up that region. But General Hood made a dive at Chattanooga. This left the march to the sea open to Sherman, and so, after sending part of his army to defend and hold what he had acquired in the Chattanooga region, he was perfectly free to proceed with the rest of it through Georgia. He saw the opportunity, and he would not have been fit for his place if he had not seized it.
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Grant was always aggressive. It was not possible with him that retreat, or any inaction could form any part of his program. But while the campaign from Culpepper to Cold Harbor was boldly, even daringly, offensive, it was so conducted that in nearly every conflict the enemy was obliged to become the attacking party; and this plan of campaign against Lee recalls this colloquybetween two Roman generals: “If thou art a great general come down and fight me.” “If thou art a great general make me come down and fight thee.” And it will be observed that four times out of five—for the army had fought on five distinct lines—Grant, by a single march, had made Lee come down and fight him.—Nicholas Smith, “Grant, the Man of Mystery.”
Grant was always aggressive. It was not possible with him that retreat, or any inaction could form any part of his program. But while the campaign from Culpepper to Cold Harbor was boldly, even daringly, offensive, it was so conducted that in nearly every conflict the enemy was obliged to become the attacking party; and this plan of campaign against Lee recalls this colloquybetween two Roman generals: “If thou art a great general come down and fight me.” “If thou art a great general make me come down and fight thee.” And it will be observed that four times out of five—for the army had fought on five distinct lines—Grant, by a single march, had made Lee come down and fight him.—Nicholas Smith, “Grant, the Man of Mystery.”
(3071)
This is the fable of a spider as quoted fromBlackwood’s Magazine:
A spider, it seems, had occasion to borrow a sum of money. A journey round to the generously disposed brought him two thousand cowries each from the cat, the dog, the hyena, the leopard, and the lion. When pay-day came round, the spider remained at home to receive the visits of the creditors in a certain prearranged order. First came the cat to claim repayment of his loan. “Hush!” said the spider. “I hear a noise outside—it is a dog come to see me; you must hide under this calabash for safety.” The cat was scarcely hidden when the dog, coming in, made a similar request for his money. Says Master Spider, “There is a cat under that calabash; take him, and consider the debt paid.” No sooner said than done. Just then a snuffling and scraping were heard at the door. The third creditor, the hyena, had arrived. “Don’t be alarmed, my dear dog, but hide here till he has left,” and the spider bustled him under the calabash. “I smell a dog,” said the hyena, routing about. “Under that calabash,” the spider replied. “Eat him up, and your debt is paid.” The dog paid the penalty of his simplicity, and all was quiet once more. The hyena was preparing to leave, when he heard an ominous sound that sent him crouching against the wall. It was the pattering of the leopard’s feet at the door. “Quick! Under this calabash,” cried his host, and the hyena curls up in the fatal cache, only to meet a like fate from his more courageous enemy. “My debt is repaid!” said the leopard, and ran against the lion coming in. A terrible fight ensued, for the leopard and the lion are equal in strength, so the natives say. While blood and dust make havoc in the house, and both animals are exhausting their strength, the spider is busy at the fire. Seizing a pot of boiling grease, he pours it over the clawing mass. Leopard and lion roll apart in their death agony, and the spider has only to straighten and clean up before resuming once more the humdrum life of fly-catching.
A spider, it seems, had occasion to borrow a sum of money. A journey round to the generously disposed brought him two thousand cowries each from the cat, the dog, the hyena, the leopard, and the lion. When pay-day came round, the spider remained at home to receive the visits of the creditors in a certain prearranged order. First came the cat to claim repayment of his loan. “Hush!” said the spider. “I hear a noise outside—it is a dog come to see me; you must hide under this calabash for safety.” The cat was scarcely hidden when the dog, coming in, made a similar request for his money. Says Master Spider, “There is a cat under that calabash; take him, and consider the debt paid.” No sooner said than done. Just then a snuffling and scraping were heard at the door. The third creditor, the hyena, had arrived. “Don’t be alarmed, my dear dog, but hide here till he has left,” and the spider bustled him under the calabash. “I smell a dog,” said the hyena, routing about. “Under that calabash,” the spider replied. “Eat him up, and your debt is paid.” The dog paid the penalty of his simplicity, and all was quiet once more. The hyena was preparing to leave, when he heard an ominous sound that sent him crouching against the wall. It was the pattering of the leopard’s feet at the door. “Quick! Under this calabash,” cried his host, and the hyena curls up in the fatal cache, only to meet a like fate from his more courageous enemy. “My debt is repaid!” said the leopard, and ran against the lion coming in. A terrible fight ensued, for the leopard and the lion are equal in strength, so the natives say. While blood and dust make havoc in the house, and both animals are exhausting their strength, the spider is busy at the fire. Seizing a pot of boiling grease, he pours it over the clawing mass. Leopard and lion roll apart in their death agony, and the spider has only to straighten and clean up before resuming once more the humdrum life of fly-catching.
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Strategy of Enemies—SeeSubtlety Among Animals.
STRATEGY, SOCIAL
Not all the strategy of life is on the fields of diplomacy or war.
An official tells a good story of the time when Hamilton Fish was Secretary of State. It had been said that Mrs. Fish sometimes carried her high ideas of courtesy too far—that it was Quixotic.One of her rules, for instance, was to return every call she received. Her husband was continually holding public receptions, and to these, out of courtesy, many women would come who had no desire that Mrs. Fish should call upon them—who were in no position to receive her properly if she did call.One such woman attended a Fish reception, left her card, and a little later was duly honored by a call from Mrs. Fish. The Fish equipage dashed down the narrow street and halted before the woman’s shabby little house. The footman opened the carriage door and Mrs. Fish descended.The poor woman of the house was in a dreadful predicament. She was, alas, kneeling on the sidewalk beside a bucket of hot water. Her sleeves were rolled back. She had a scrubbing-brush in one hand and a cake of soap in the other. She was scrubbing the front steps.Bending graciously over her, Mrs. Fish asked politely:“Is Mrs. Henry Robinson at home?”And Mrs. Henry Robinson replied: “No, mum, she ain’t,” and went on scrubbing.
An official tells a good story of the time when Hamilton Fish was Secretary of State. It had been said that Mrs. Fish sometimes carried her high ideas of courtesy too far—that it was Quixotic.
One of her rules, for instance, was to return every call she received. Her husband was continually holding public receptions, and to these, out of courtesy, many women would come who had no desire that Mrs. Fish should call upon them—who were in no position to receive her properly if she did call.
One such woman attended a Fish reception, left her card, and a little later was duly honored by a call from Mrs. Fish. The Fish equipage dashed down the narrow street and halted before the woman’s shabby little house. The footman opened the carriage door and Mrs. Fish descended.
The poor woman of the house was in a dreadful predicament. She was, alas, kneeling on the sidewalk beside a bucket of hot water. Her sleeves were rolled back. She had a scrubbing-brush in one hand and a cake of soap in the other. She was scrubbing the front steps.
Bending graciously over her, Mrs. Fish asked politely:
“Is Mrs. Henry Robinson at home?”
And Mrs. Henry Robinson replied: “No, mum, she ain’t,” and went on scrubbing.
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Streams, Living and Dying—SeeEarly Promise.
STRENGTH
William Herbert Hudnut writes this virile advice for New Year’s time:
Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a burden to bear,There’s a grief to share,There’s a heart that breaks ’neath a load of care—But fare ye forth with a song.Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a battle to fight,There’s a wrong to right,There’s a God who blesses the good with might—So fare ye forth with a song.Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a work to do,There’s a world to make new,There’s a call for men who are brave and true—On! on with a song!Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a year of grace,There’s a God to face,There’s another heat in the great world race—Speed! speed with a song!
Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a burden to bear,There’s a grief to share,There’s a heart that breaks ’neath a load of care—But fare ye forth with a song.Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a battle to fight,There’s a wrong to right,There’s a God who blesses the good with might—So fare ye forth with a song.Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a work to do,There’s a world to make new,There’s a call for men who are brave and true—On! on with a song!Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a year of grace,There’s a God to face,There’s another heat in the great world race—Speed! speed with a song!
Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a burden to bear,There’s a grief to share,There’s a heart that breaks ’neath a load of care—But fare ye forth with a song.
Quit you like men, be strong;
There’s a burden to bear,
There’s a grief to share,
There’s a heart that breaks ’neath a load of care—
But fare ye forth with a song.
Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a battle to fight,There’s a wrong to right,There’s a God who blesses the good with might—So fare ye forth with a song.
Quit you like men, be strong;
There’s a battle to fight,
There’s a wrong to right,
There’s a God who blesses the good with might—
So fare ye forth with a song.
Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a work to do,There’s a world to make new,There’s a call for men who are brave and true—On! on with a song!
Quit you like men, be strong;
There’s a work to do,
There’s a world to make new,
There’s a call for men who are brave and true—
On! on with a song!
Quit you like men, be strong;There’s a year of grace,There’s a God to face,There’s another heat in the great world race—Speed! speed with a song!
Quit you like men, be strong;
There’s a year of grace,
There’s a God to face,
There’s another heat in the great world race—
Speed! speed with a song!
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STRENGTH FROM RESISTED EVIL
In general, every evil to which we do not succumb, is a benefactor. As the Sandwich Islander believes that the strength and valor of the enemy he kills passes into himself, so we gain the strength of the temptation we resist.—PhiladelphiaLedger.
In general, every evil to which we do not succumb, is a benefactor. As the Sandwich Islander believes that the strength and valor of the enemy he kills passes into himself, so we gain the strength of the temptation we resist.—PhiladelphiaLedger.
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Strength of the Weak—SeeWeakness and Strength.
STRENGTH, SECRET SOURCE OF
Numa Pompilius, the second and the wisest King of Rome, was accustomed to retire to the forest, and receive wisdom and instruction from the goddess Egeria—who met him in secret—and then came forth to triumph in government and over his enemies. (Text.)
Numa Pompilius, the second and the wisest King of Rome, was accustomed to retire to the forest, and receive wisdom and instruction from the goddess Egeria—who met him in secret—and then came forth to triumph in government and over his enemies. (Text.)
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STRING, THE NEED OF MORE THAN ONE
Thomas K. Beecher tells a story of finding his father’s old fiddle in the garret, where on a rainy day he had taken some children to play. It was all covered with dust and had only one string. And Mr. Beecher held it up to the children and told them how he used to hear his father play on it the old tunes, “Merrily, Oh,” and “Pompey Ducklegs.”Of course, they cried “Play on it. Play the old tunes.” “I can not,” he said, “for it has only one string.” When he tried it he could only pick out with three notes a tune. Then he said, “If it had two strings, I could play six tunes, and if it had not only a G string, but a D string and an A string, and an E string, I could play all the tunes. You can not play real music with one string.”—N. McGee Waters.
Thomas K. Beecher tells a story of finding his father’s old fiddle in the garret, where on a rainy day he had taken some children to play. It was all covered with dust and had only one string. And Mr. Beecher held it up to the children and told them how he used to hear his father play on it the old tunes, “Merrily, Oh,” and “Pompey Ducklegs.”
Of course, they cried “Play on it. Play the old tunes.” “I can not,” he said, “for it has only one string.” When he tried it he could only pick out with three notes a tune. Then he said, “If it had two strings, I could play six tunes, and if it had not only a G string, but a D string and an A string, and an E string, I could play all the tunes. You can not play real music with one string.”—N. McGee Waters.
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Stress and Storm Gains—SeeAdversity.
Striving—SeeStrain, Nervous.
STRONG AND WEAK
The idea of the big ones swallowing up the little ones, or the idea of the trusts, is not by any means confined to land, as we may see from reading the following:
As the sea covers three-fifths of the surface of the globe, its fauna is similarly greater than the living forms on land. When a naturalist inspects a little pool not larger than a billiard-table which is filled by the splashing waves of the Mediterranean, he finds it teeming with more varied and busy forms of life than can be found in a square mile of ordinary land. But in all that living marine world there is not a trace of goodness! All fishes are murderers and cannibals, and as in fresh water big trout relish eating small trout, so, in the wider waters of the ocean, wo to the small fry when a larger father or brother catches sight of them!Science has boldly penetrated these dark, still abysses and finds that they abound with life. But such life! Many of the abysmal forms have large, movable jaws with rows of teeth all pointing backward, making escape impossible when once any creature is caught by them. The scientists of theChallengerwere once puzzled to make out what a thing was which came up in their trawl, until it proved to be a fish caught by a smaller fish who was swallowed by its larger brother by gradually pulling itself glove fashion over its victim by means of barbed teeth—somewhat like a child being slowly swallowed alive by a large expanding toad. In those black depths some forms have phosphorescent lights not unlike burglars’ dark-lanterns, with which to hunt their prey.Only among those animals which originally used to tread the solid earth and then took to the sea, like the whale, seal, and walrus, is there any sign of any falling off in all-devouring selfishness; these are mammals, and hence show affection for their young. But they live where they have to encounter the hideous swordfish, or theirown relative who has been transformed into the cruel grampus, and so must fight for life.—W. Hanna Thomson, M.D.,Everybody’s.
As the sea covers three-fifths of the surface of the globe, its fauna is similarly greater than the living forms on land. When a naturalist inspects a little pool not larger than a billiard-table which is filled by the splashing waves of the Mediterranean, he finds it teeming with more varied and busy forms of life than can be found in a square mile of ordinary land. But in all that living marine world there is not a trace of goodness! All fishes are murderers and cannibals, and as in fresh water big trout relish eating small trout, so, in the wider waters of the ocean, wo to the small fry when a larger father or brother catches sight of them!
Science has boldly penetrated these dark, still abysses and finds that they abound with life. But such life! Many of the abysmal forms have large, movable jaws with rows of teeth all pointing backward, making escape impossible when once any creature is caught by them. The scientists of theChallengerwere once puzzled to make out what a thing was which came up in their trawl, until it proved to be a fish caught by a smaller fish who was swallowed by its larger brother by gradually pulling itself glove fashion over its victim by means of barbed teeth—somewhat like a child being slowly swallowed alive by a large expanding toad. In those black depths some forms have phosphorescent lights not unlike burglars’ dark-lanterns, with which to hunt their prey.
Only among those animals which originally used to tread the solid earth and then took to the sea, like the whale, seal, and walrus, is there any sign of any falling off in all-devouring selfishness; these are mammals, and hence show affection for their young. But they live where they have to encounter the hideous swordfish, or theirown relative who has been transformed into the cruel grampus, and so must fight for life.—W. Hanna Thomson, M.D.,Everybody’s.
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Strongest Quality Cultivated—SeeAdvantage, Working to the Best.
STRUGGLE
Contending with the globe, we are like Jacob wrestling with the angel. The fight is long and hard amid the mystery and the darkness, and the great Power seems reluctant to bless us; but the breaking of the day comes, and we find ourselves blest with corn, wine, oil, purple, feasts, flowers. Ah! and with gifts far beyond those of basket and store—ripened intelligence, self-reliance, courage, skill, manliness, virtue. Of course, man suffers in the conflict, as the patriarch did. When we see the farm laborer bent double with rheumatism, or the collier mutilated by the explosion in the mine, or the grinder with his lung gone, or the weaver with his enfeebled physique, or the seaman prematurely old through his battle with wind and wave, or any of the million workers who carry pathetic signs of the arduousness of toil, we see the limp of the victorious wrestler. In the South Seas the natives lie on their backs and the bread-fruit drops into their mouths. But these make a poor show in the grand procession of the ages.
Contending with the globe, we are like Jacob wrestling with the angel. The fight is long and hard amid the mystery and the darkness, and the great Power seems reluctant to bless us; but the breaking of the day comes, and we find ourselves blest with corn, wine, oil, purple, feasts, flowers. Ah! and with gifts far beyond those of basket and store—ripened intelligence, self-reliance, courage, skill, manliness, virtue. Of course, man suffers in the conflict, as the patriarch did. When we see the farm laborer bent double with rheumatism, or the collier mutilated by the explosion in the mine, or the grinder with his lung gone, or the weaver with his enfeebled physique, or the seaman prematurely old through his battle with wind and wave, or any of the million workers who carry pathetic signs of the arduousness of toil, we see the limp of the victorious wrestler. In the South Seas the natives lie on their backs and the bread-fruit drops into their mouths. But these make a poor show in the grand procession of the ages.
The law of life is truly severe which enjoins that man shall eat bread in the sweat of his face, but in this struggle for life our great antagonist is our great helper; we are leaving barbarism behind us; we are undergoing a magnificent transformation; we are becoming princes of God and heirs of all things.—W. L. Watkinson, “The Transfigured Sackcloth.”
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SeeAdversity.
STRUGGLE AND GROWTH
Life in crystals can be explained by the struggle for existence, which is ardent even here. In fact, if during their growth two crystals come into contact, the weaker will completely disappear, absorbed by the stronger.—Revue Scientifique.
Life in crystals can be explained by the struggle for existence, which is ardent even here. In fact, if during their growth two crystals come into contact, the weaker will completely disappear, absorbed by the stronger.—Revue Scientifique.
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STUDY OVERDONE
When I see a morning procession of pallid schoolboys staggering to school under a load of text-books almost too heavy to be held together by the strap that encircles them, or a bevy of young girls, bound on the same educational errand, more pallid and more exhausted by the eight or ten pounds of torture in the shape of grammars, dictionaries, geographies, arithmetics, geometries and philosophies, they, too, tug along the streets, I wish their piles of knowledge might be reduced one-half, for I can not but feel that with fewer books there would be more culture, that too many studies produce too little scholarship, and that the intellect which is forced will rarely be expanded.—James T. Fields.
When I see a morning procession of pallid schoolboys staggering to school under a load of text-books almost too heavy to be held together by the strap that encircles them, or a bevy of young girls, bound on the same educational errand, more pallid and more exhausted by the eight or ten pounds of torture in the shape of grammars, dictionaries, geographies, arithmetics, geometries and philosophies, they, too, tug along the streets, I wish their piles of knowledge might be reduced one-half, for I can not but feel that with fewer books there would be more culture, that too many studies produce too little scholarship, and that the intellect which is forced will rarely be expanded.—James T. Fields.
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Style—SeePersonal Element in Literature.
SUBCONSCIOUS ABSORPTION
Coleridge relates in his “Literaria Biographia” that in a Roman Catholic town in Germany a young woman who could neither read nor write was seized with a fever, during which, according to the priests, she was possest by a polyglot devil. For she talked Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, besides uttering sounds which, tho not understood by her hearers, had doubtless, meaning, but belonged to languages unknown to them. “Whole sheets of her ravings were written out,” says Coleridge, “and were found to consist of sentences intelligible in themselves, but having slight connection with each other.” Fortunately, a physician who, being skeptically inclined, was disposed to question the theory of the polyglot spirit, “determined to trace back the girl’s history. After much trouble he discovered that at the age of nine she had been charitably taken by an old Protestant pastor, a great Hebrew scholar, in whose house she lived till his death. On further inquiry, it appeared to have been the old man’s custom for years to walk up and down a passage of his house, into which the kitchen opened, and to read to himself in a loud voice out of his books. The books were ransacked, and among them were found several of the Greek and Latin fathers, together with a collection of rabbinical writings. In these works so many of the passages taken down at the young woman’s bedside were identified that there could be no reasonable doubt as to their source.”—Prof.Richard A. Proctor, New YorkMail and Express.
Coleridge relates in his “Literaria Biographia” that in a Roman Catholic town in Germany a young woman who could neither read nor write was seized with a fever, during which, according to the priests, she was possest by a polyglot devil. For she talked Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, besides uttering sounds which, tho not understood by her hearers, had doubtless, meaning, but belonged to languages unknown to them. “Whole sheets of her ravings were written out,” says Coleridge, “and were found to consist of sentences intelligible in themselves, but having slight connection with each other.” Fortunately, a physician who, being skeptically inclined, was disposed to question the theory of the polyglot spirit, “determined to trace back the girl’s history. After much trouble he discovered that at the age of nine she had been charitably taken by an old Protestant pastor, a great Hebrew scholar, in whose house she lived till his death. On further inquiry, it appeared to have been the old man’s custom for years to walk up and down a passage of his house, into which the kitchen opened, and to read to himself in a loud voice out of his books. The books were ransacked, and among them were found several of the Greek and Latin fathers, together with a collection of rabbinical writings. In these works so many of the passages taken down at the young woman’s bedside were identified that there could be no reasonable doubt as to their source.”—Prof.Richard A. Proctor, New YorkMail and Express.
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Subjects a Necessity—SeeFame, Qualifying for.
SUBSTANCE AND SHADOW
When Elihu Root was about to enter the Roosevelt Cabinet as Secretary of State, a friend wrote to him: “Why not wait three years and get the substance instead of taking the shadow now?” in allusion to the presidency. Mr. Root replied: “I have always thought that the opportunity to do something worth doing was the substance and the trying to get something was the shadow.”
When Elihu Root was about to enter the Roosevelt Cabinet as Secretary of State, a friend wrote to him: “Why not wait three years and get the substance instead of taking the shadow now?” in allusion to the presidency. Mr. Root replied: “I have always thought that the opportunity to do something worth doing was the substance and the trying to get something was the shadow.”
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SUBSTANCES, PENETRATING
Scientific men declare that there is no barricade like snow. A bullet fired from a distance of fifty yards will not penetrate a wall of snow a few feet thick, but the same missile passes through dense earthworks and shatters trees when discharged from a much greater distance. A bag of cotton is a much more efficient resistant than a steel plate. A swordsman can cut a sheep in two at a stroke, but he is baffled at once if he seeks to cut through a pillow of fine feathers. (Text.)
Scientific men declare that there is no barricade like snow. A bullet fired from a distance of fifty yards will not penetrate a wall of snow a few feet thick, but the same missile passes through dense earthworks and shatters trees when discharged from a much greater distance. A bag of cotton is a much more efficient resistant than a steel plate. A swordsman can cut a sheep in two at a stroke, but he is baffled at once if he seeks to cut through a pillow of fine feathers. (Text.)
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SUBSTITUTION
The following incident, related by Edward Gilliat, illustrates the truth of Christ bearing our sins:
Louis XIII, finding the Brittany fleet too weak to attack La Rochelle, had ordered the Mediterranean galleys to pass through the Straits of Gibraltar. M. de Gondi put out to sea, but left ten galleys at Marseilles to be equipped and made up to their full numbers. But there were not enough galley-slaves to fill up the places, so prisoners from ordinary prisons were drafted in to serve on the galleys.Among these latter Vincent de Paul noticed one young man who was sobbing and crying piteously. He asked him the cause of his misery, and was answered, “It is because I am leaving my wife and little children in great poverty; and now who will work for them? I have not deserved so great a punishment for my slight offense against the law.” The chaplain made further inquiries, found that the slave had spoken the truth, but, as the galley was on the point of starting, he could not get him reprieved. There was only one thing to be done; it was not lawful, but pity mastered prudence. He somehow managed to exchange places with the galley-slave, got himself chained to the seat, and sent off the prisoner in his soutane. He was not recognized until some time afterward, and hastened to leave Marseilles, as his biographer says, “more ashamed of his virtue than others of their vice.”—“Heroes of Modern Crusades.”
Louis XIII, finding the Brittany fleet too weak to attack La Rochelle, had ordered the Mediterranean galleys to pass through the Straits of Gibraltar. M. de Gondi put out to sea, but left ten galleys at Marseilles to be equipped and made up to their full numbers. But there were not enough galley-slaves to fill up the places, so prisoners from ordinary prisons were drafted in to serve on the galleys.
Among these latter Vincent de Paul noticed one young man who was sobbing and crying piteously. He asked him the cause of his misery, and was answered, “It is because I am leaving my wife and little children in great poverty; and now who will work for them? I have not deserved so great a punishment for my slight offense against the law.” The chaplain made further inquiries, found that the slave had spoken the truth, but, as the galley was on the point of starting, he could not get him reprieved. There was only one thing to be done; it was not lawful, but pity mastered prudence. He somehow managed to exchange places with the galley-slave, got himself chained to the seat, and sent off the prisoner in his soutane. He was not recognized until some time afterward, and hastened to leave Marseilles, as his biographer says, “more ashamed of his virtue than others of their vice.”—“Heroes of Modern Crusades.”
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More than eighty years ago a fierce war raged in India between the English and Tippoo Sahib. On one occasion several English officers were taken prisoners. Among them was one named Baird. One day the native officer brought in fetters to be put upon each of the prisoners, the wounded not excepted. Baird had been severely wounded and was suffering from pain and weakness.A gray-haired officer said to the native official, “You do not think of putting chains upon that wounded man?”“There are just as many pairs of fetters as there are prisoners,” was the answer, “and every pair must be worn.”“Then,” said the noble officer, “put two pairs on me. I will wear his as well as my own.” This was done. Strange to say, Baird lived to regain his freedom, and lived to take that city; but his noble, unselfish friend died in prison.Up to his death he wore two pairs of fetters. But what if he had worn the fetters of all the prisoners? What if, instead of being a captive himself, he had quitted a glorious palace, to live in their loathsome dungeon, to wear their chains, to bear their stripes, to suffer and die for them, that they might go free, and free forever? (Text.)
More than eighty years ago a fierce war raged in India between the English and Tippoo Sahib. On one occasion several English officers were taken prisoners. Among them was one named Baird. One day the native officer brought in fetters to be put upon each of the prisoners, the wounded not excepted. Baird had been severely wounded and was suffering from pain and weakness.
A gray-haired officer said to the native official, “You do not think of putting chains upon that wounded man?”
“There are just as many pairs of fetters as there are prisoners,” was the answer, “and every pair must be worn.”
“Then,” said the noble officer, “put two pairs on me. I will wear his as well as my own.” This was done. Strange to say, Baird lived to regain his freedom, and lived to take that city; but his noble, unselfish friend died in prison.
Up to his death he wore two pairs of fetters. But what if he had worn the fetters of all the prisoners? What if, instead of being a captive himself, he had quitted a glorious palace, to live in their loathsome dungeon, to wear their chains, to bear their stripes, to suffer and die for them, that they might go free, and free forever? (Text.)
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Substitution Unacceptable—SeeVicarious Salvation Impossible.
Subterfuges—SeeReasons versus Excuses.
SUBTLETY
The fer-de-lance is found on the islands of Martinique and Santa Lucia. The basis of its gruesome reputation seems to be the fact that it does not warn the intruders of its haunts after the manner of the cobra or the rattlesnake, but flattens its coils and with slightly vibrating tail, awaits events.If the unsuspecting traveler should show no sign of hostile intent he may be allowed to pass unharmed within two yards of the coiled matadore, but a closer approach is apt to be construed as a challenge, and the serpent, suddenly rearing its ugly head, may scare the trespasser into some motion of self-defense. He may lift his foot or brandish his stick in a menacing manner. Ifhe does, he is lost. The lower coils will expand, bringing the business end, neck and all a few feet nearer; the head points like a leveled rifle, then darts forward with electric swiftness, guided by an unerring instinct for the selection of the least-protected parts of the body. (Text.)
The fer-de-lance is found on the islands of Martinique and Santa Lucia. The basis of its gruesome reputation seems to be the fact that it does not warn the intruders of its haunts after the manner of the cobra or the rattlesnake, but flattens its coils and with slightly vibrating tail, awaits events.
If the unsuspecting traveler should show no sign of hostile intent he may be allowed to pass unharmed within two yards of the coiled matadore, but a closer approach is apt to be construed as a challenge, and the serpent, suddenly rearing its ugly head, may scare the trespasser into some motion of self-defense. He may lift his foot or brandish his stick in a menacing manner. Ifhe does, he is lost. The lower coils will expand, bringing the business end, neck and all a few feet nearer; the head points like a leveled rifle, then darts forward with electric swiftness, guided by an unerring instinct for the selection of the least-protected parts of the body. (Text.)
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SUBTLETY AMONG ANIMALS